


Lovedrive

by CalicoYorki



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, You know what let's just not call this an exclusive party.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-26
Updated: 2012-05-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 09:10:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalicoYorki/pseuds/CalicoYorki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat's got ninety-nine problems, and I'm sure we all know which bitch is the main one. While he'd never trade her for the Universe, he might not have a choice about his health.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Karkat: Attempt To Recover Your Wits.

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a bawdy affair at many parts, and I'm pretty much making this up as I go along. Be forewarned as to such.

It's hard. It's hard and nobody understands.

Your name is Karkat Vantas. You are presently in love with Terezi Pyrope. And if she does not get off of your tail for one night, you'll be dead before you can live to see a successfully recreated Universe. You really could have never imagined that she would be this into you. For all the time you'd known her, you'd felt like the two of you were just linked by a spiny black chain of young kismessisitude, biting deeper anytime she walked by.

Considering how your past few nights have been, you almost wish it had stayed that way. Your chest heaves, your knees shake, your body is slick with sweat. Between your legs, Terezi cackles like what those humans refer to as hyenas. She licks the scarlet-tinged pale nectar from your bone bulge off her lips. "GOGDAMMIT, TEREZI," you manage to wheeze out, "YOU'RE GOING TO KILL ME LIKE THIS." She makes no reply, just wriggles her way up next to you. It's only this close up that you can see the teal blush on her face. At least she enjoyed it just as much as you'll never openly admit you did.

Hugging you tightly, she shoves her face into your hair and inhales deeply. It used to disturb you when she'd take in your scent like that. Then, it began to piss you off. For a while, you were ambivalent to the little act. Now, you wish she would spend more time on quirky, oddball little gestures of affection like this rather than milking your life and...Other things. Her breath fluttering across your flushed skin makes you feel much more at ease. Curling an arm around her head, you gently stroke your fingertips across the base of one horn. Tittering, Terezi pulls you ever closer. Now, you yourself can't help but chuckle.

"1 LOV3 YOU, K4RK4T." You flinch. Did she just say that? Did those words just leave her lips, of her own volition? To trolls, love is an entirely alien and at times foreboding concept. Rarely, if ever could one find an Alternian troll that would abide for stronger affections than pity. It was reserved for weakminded creatures. But you know very well that Terezi wouldn't be so worked up as to say that in passing.

Before you can question her reasons, Terezi's up and getting dressed. The two of you have yet to do the horizontal shuffle with any amount of light. Trolls have astounding night vision, but Terezi's sense of smell makes any light at all unnecessary. So, you barely can view her silhouette as she puts on her clothes and prances for the door.

"OH, 4ND BY TH3 W4Y HON3YBUNS," she drawls. Good Lord, the pet names. If it means not having to put up with her nicknames you'll gladly die in bed, just to avoid the dread of her saying that shit out in public. At last, when she's convinced you're paying attention: "TH3 HUM4N C4LL3D J4N3 1S M4K1NG 4 TR34T C4LL3D 'CH1CK3N 4ND GR4VY B1SCU1TS' FOR BR34KF4ST. M4K3 SUR3 TO 34T UP!" She's gone in a flicker of red.

It takes several minutes of wallowing before you're able to pry yourself from bed and put on a decent set of clothes. Stretching tiredly, you make your way out the door.

Might as well see what this biscuit deal is all about.


	2. Karkat: BE SAVED ~ Roxy: Be The Hacker Wiz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How fitting that Karkat would have this encounter.

**== > Be Karkat.**

The fuck? You're already Karkat! Has Terezi screwed you senseless, literally? Just go to the damned kitchen. You need biscuits.

**== > Karkat: Yeesh Fine Biscuits It Is.**

You are still Karkat Vantas. You are on your way to one of the asteroid complex's many kitchens. A delightful smell reaches your nose, and almost drags you in physically. Before you know it, you've stumbled into the kitchen to find the human called Jane Crocker baking up a frenzy. Once, twice, thrice you go to say something, but she's not even realized you're there. With a sigh, you collapse into the cushioned kitchen chair and let your body rest.

A matter of minutes later, she's noted your presence, but doesn't overreact. She just continues right on with what she's doing. Those crystal blue eyes, buckteeth, and messy black hair are too much like a _certain someone_ for comfort, but you say nothing. You just let yourself drift into a haze between waking and sleeping, hearing the garbled noise of a dreambubble flowing around you.

Thunk.

With a grunt, you jump up to see that a plate has been set down before you. The fluffy, golden-brown creation has been sliced in half, with some kind of cooked meat slathered in what almost looked like stew within. Supposedly, this is what Terezi was referring to when she said 'Chicken Gravy Biscuit'. It smells good enough. Eyeing Jane, you pick the biscuit up, and take a bite.

You proceed to do a 360 quadruple-axel flip off the Gogdamn handle. Where has this cooking been the entirety of trollkind? Before you know it, it's down your throat and you're twitching from reaction to the flavor. Jane just giggles and offers you more. "My word," she manages, "I would think you'd never eaten in your life!" You would tell her that you're thinking the same fucking thing if you weren't too busy realizing why some humans get off on food. This shit is almost a religious experience. It also happens to be more occupation than meal, as you just about nick yourself in the rush to lick some stray gravy off your arm.

After your third biscuit, you're finally able to regain control of your higher mental functions. "UH, YEAH," you say lamely. "SORRY ABOUT THAT, UH, FEEDING FRENZY. I, TRY TO NOT GO BATSHIT LIKE - WELL NOT _THAT_ KIND OF BATSHIT YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN." You pick up a napkin and wipe your mouth off. All things considered, you do feel a lot better. Even if you now feel like your ass will be permanently affixed to this chair henceforth. Thankfully, Jane has no qualms about sitting down across from you and bringing the conversation closer.

"You seem like you're all sorts of exhausted," she chirps in that sunshiney voice. "What's got you so down?" You don't want to let her know. You don't want to give the full details, at least. Before you can stop it, however, the entirety of your ordeal has tumbled out of your mouth and onto the table. There, Jane just kind of stares at you with a blank expression. You attempt a Facepalm 2x Combo, but all you can manage is dropping facefirst to the table. Well damn this is awkward. Nice going carcinoGeneticist.

**== > Karkat: Be Jane.**

You cannot be Jane, she is too busy picking up what Karkat just put down. Why not be Roxy instead?

**== > ...Oookaaay. Karkat: Be Roxy**

You are now Roxy Lalonde. 

You are presently nursing an outrageously potent martini glass of drink that is nearing jet fuel levels of kick. You are also listening to the J. Geils Band's 1980 hit _Come Back_ because you'll drink something like _water_ before you listen to another rap battle that's been re-hashed and re-iterated and re-formatted a thousand times out of boredom between the Striders until its origins are only perceptible to the ears of canines and teenage alcoholics who suffer from their own case of terminal boredom. 

All the while, you continue tinkering with a virus that can surpass the boundaries of dream bubbles and play _Chipmunk_ songs on infinite loop and at full volume _and higher_ without stop from the afflicted comp, while it proceeds to create a memory leak that will, in short order, cause the computer's circuits to melt; the keyboard to smoke like a chimney; the screen to rupture; and at last, the whole thing to light up brighter than your home state's legendary Christmas tree. Why? Because you want to see what will finally get any Sollux at all to give a nice loud 'hopy shit' at the carnage.

Just one more string of coding, and it will be done. If only this asteroid didn't make even the most delightful acts of merry mayhem and mischief-making (okay never gonna use that alliteration in any lifetime or Universe again) skull-numbingly boring.

With a sigh, you tip your head and knock back the entire glass.

As you contemplate the whirling stars, you think one thing:

_Yup. I still know how to mix a cokctail._

_*cotdtail._

_*cotkatiol_

_*fuck it._

**== > Roxy: Be Karkat**

You are Karkat once more. Fan-fucking-tastic. Being Karkat, you have once again become acquainted with how flexible one has to be to stick their foot in their mouth as often and as eagerly as you do. This kind of gymnastics transcends circus acts and carnivals. What the nethers of Paradox Space have just witnessed is a fucking quantum leap in the artform of conversation derailment.

Jane doesn't seem to be shocked anymore. She seems to be - _OH TITTYFUCKING JEGUS CHRIST._ You don't know this, being a Troll, but humans have a military anagram that reads 'BOHICA'. This stands for 'Bend Over, Here It Comes Again'. Which is appropriate for you, because life has always had a way of screwing you right between the shame globes. Before you can kiss some level of dignity good bye, Jane's speaking again.

"Karkat, I don't know if I should be the one to speak to you about this, seeing as how I've never had this kind of experience..." _GOG. GOG. GOG._ "...I mean, Jake and I haven't even had that much experience in close contact!" _GOG I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME FUCKDAMMIT._ "But if I may give you my own personal advice, please, do listen." _GOG YOU WHIMSICAL TWINKLY-EYED BASTARD AND I MEAN THAT AS RESPECTFULLY AS IS PHYSICALLY POSSIBLE FOR ME THIS HAS GONE TOO FAR. I CANNOT TAKE ANYMORE. MY BULLSHIT TOLERANCE-O-METER IS IN THE RED. AS THE HUMANS SAY, MAYDAY FUCKING MAYDAY, I'M GOING DOWN. PLEASE SAVE ME GOG. GOOOG. SAVE ME GOG. PLEASE._ This inner prayer/scathing monologous diatribe finished, you prepare to give up the ghost.

Then Jane says the beautiful words that rapture you up. "I can cook some food that would help build up your stamina. Roxy gave me a cook book on such things, and I'm sure you can guess why." That bucktoothed grin is suddenly the perfect smile of an angel. You don't recall cases of Gog and/or Jegus saving unwillingly hyperactive sexuals, but hey, you'll run with it.

You croak out your thanks, then collapse to the table. You think that biscuit has now officially hit your stomach, because it feels like the Imperial Battleship Condescension just rammed you into the dirt.

And you could swear you're hearing rustblood spirituals in the background.

And _then_ a disgruntled female's voice speaks in your head.

**_There, Karkat Vantas. Don't say I never did anything for you._ ******

Well. Fuck.


	3. Interlude 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesus it's early for an interlude. Oh well.

**== > Karkat: Be Dirk.**

Alright. That's a thing that can be done.

You are now Dirk Strider. Nursing an orange soda of unknown providence (unknown for the simple fact that you saw no reason to look at the label and still see no reason now), you are presently re-reading your copy of _Timaeus_. You would have never thought you'd be placed in this kind of situation, but the description of the demiurge and the ideas of creation in this ancient book might well give you some key ideas on how to proceed.

The ideas of the dichotomy between good and evil, facts and belief, being and becoming, assured and likely, these all have fascinated you for years. You like to think yourself a cultured badass rather than a nerd who happens to possess mad skills with a katana, but in the end, you don't care either way. You deeply enjoy robotics and philosophy, and other such things. You will always be yourself, no matter how the world around you changes.

Currently, you're deciding whether the group should make a strongly practical world or a strongly magical world. A world where science rules, or a world where magic runs strong. It would help if anyone at all held as strong an investment in the matter as you do, but so be it. You'll pore over this book until your eyes burn and your fingers are pitch blank with ink, and you'll be damned if anyone will stop you.

**== > Dirk: Be Damned As Someone Stops You.**

"Hey Striiiiider. What'cha up to?"

You are a master of ignoring Roxy. You don't even turn to look as her form registers on your periphery. "I'm boning up on this dialogue on the supposed creation of our Universe." Something in that sentence causes Roxy to snicker, and you can make a guess. "These ideas are outdated and flawed, in the end, but reading over it might get me thinking on how we can create a proper Universe." Roxy seems to be giggling uncontrollably. With a sigh, you turn and look. It's then that you remember that you _never_ turn and look.

"Good _Lord_ Roxy. How boring is _your_ day?" There before you, Roxy stands wearing nothing but a set of lacy purple lingeree and a smile. Her bra and panties hardly cover her, and her garterbelt hugs those creamy, smooth thighs snugly and perfectly. As she walks over, sits next to you, and leans on your shoulder, you shift slightly to make room and gaze down at her. She smirks up at you. "So. How's the Chipmunks virus coming along?" With a loud _sngrk_ , Roxy falls back onto the bed you're both sitting on. "Seriously, how many years have you known I'm gay? It's almost as if you just wanted an excuse to prance around the complex in fancy underwear." From the _wonk_ she gives you, it's quite apparent that you've cracked this mystery in record time.

A heavy sigh breaks loose from you, but you can't help but smile. In a matter of minutes, Roxy's somehow roped you into a meandering conversation of robotics, programming, and philosophy. Or at least, she goes as deep into philosophy as her buzzed mind will allow. It's actually quite pleasant, and you begrudgingly realize that your shoulders have lost the tension you didn't notice was there. Soon enough, Roxy says her goodbyes and prances out of your room. You go back to reading.

Until you hear Karkat explode into cussing down the hallway, and hear Roxy cackling and snorting uncontrollably. Shaking your head, you mark your place and close your book.

Roxy fits the whole Void Aspect well. She's a gnawing vacuum that just sucks in the attention of anyone nearby, whether purposefully or not.

Better go save the pissiest troll before Roxy gives him firsthand experience of the human female body.


	4. KARKAT: Eat Your Meal, Handle Your Problems ~ JANE: Try Not To Get Killed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so, the character tags begin to make sense.

**== > Be Karkat.**

Riiight. Because you obviously don't have enough self-targeted hatred in your life being Dirk, or anyone else for that matter. In your stomach is settled a black and broiling pit of rage and disgust with your own existence, a good acquaintance with the many ulcerous afflictions you give yourself from such a foul disposition.

It soothes such afflictions to be eating the otherworldly dishes Jane Crocker has been cooking for you. Buttery mashed potatoes, fresh green beans with bacon included, panfried chicken with some kind of seasoning that you are almost certain she imbued powers of the Lifey Thing into to attain such a quality of reinvigorating your mind and body. And criminy, yes criminy you're so flabbergasted that you've temporarily adopted Jake's moronic speech patterns apparently, _criminy_ , the bread she bakes is outrageously wonderful. It's like she baked the clouds of heaven into every loaf, two of which you've partaken in. 

Considering that this whole endeavor was set out upon in hopes of surviving Terezi's nymphomanic lovemaking tendencies, you make the judgment call that you don't want to become as big as a fucking hive in the process. Unable to articulate around the mouthful of homemade crescent rolls, you slap your hand on the table for mercy. With a knowing, bucktoothed smile, Jane begins putting the rest of the food up. "Mr. Vantas," she says in that sunshiney way she seems to always have, "I must say, I'm happy to have someone like you to enjoy my cooking! It just doesn't seem that cooking and baking has any purpose without any mouths to feed." She takes a seat across from you, quietly nibbling on one of the rolls you weren't able to get to. With those ludicrous buckteeth.

At last, you manage to recollect your wits. "YEAH, I THINK I CAN UNDERSTAND THAT." You don't all that much, but then again, you don't cook or bake. "I HAVE TO THANK YOU AGAIN. I CAN TELL THESE RECIPES ARE WORKING ALREADY. I FEEL LIKE I HAVE MUCH MORE ENERGY. IT'S KIND OF - _THE FUCK WAS THAT!!? SHIT._ " Jane heard the loud clattering in one of the floor-level dining block storage vessels as well. You can tell by the way she half-tuck and rolls out of her seat and gets the chair in-between her new position and the source of the noise. There is no way that there could be squeakbeasts in this complex, and putting that immutable fact to the side where it can be proud of itself, even squeakbeasts in the community block sewers of Alternia don't make a sound like that. And then you hear a - " _FUUUCK NO!! JANE KEEP BEHIND ME!! I SWEAR I'M BEING SERIOUS AS A BLOOD PUMPER FAILURE WHEN I SAY GET ACROSS THE ROOM NOW!!_ " Thank Gog she listens to you, gets across the room, and takes the chair with her. 

Alright. Now, to prepare your pap-papping hand. You just have to get in close, kneeeeel down, reach over, grab the handle, and...And...Just slowly...Open...It...Up...From the gloom inside the cabinets stare a couple of yellow-orange orbs with indigo slit pupils. "honk. honk. honk. honk. honk. honk. honk. honk. honk. honk." Your moirail sighs in relief, once he's certain that it's you. "HEY BEST FRIEND. i uh. got kinda MOTHERFUCKIN' LOST wandering around. I REALIZED I WAS in the part of the complex THAT ALL Y'ALL MOTHERFUCKERS USE. i kinda freaked out AND GOT ALL UP IN THIS hiding spot for a while. I KINDA FELL ASLEEP and when i woke up i looked out AND SAW THE MOTHERFUCKING cake-baking human." He reaches out with one of his skinny hands. He's not trimmed his claws in a long time, and they're looking dirty, too. Knowing what he's seeking, you reach out and gently hold his hand in yours. Your own hand is barely large enough to match his. While you're wondering how this dumbfuck clown moirail of yours fit into a tiny space like this, you reach in with your other hand and gently search around.

Once you find his face, you gently pap him on the cheek. "DON'T WORRY, GAMZEE. I WON'T LET ANYONE HURT YOU, AND I SURE AS HELL WON'T LET YOU HURT ANYONE ELSE. IF YOU PROMISE ME THAT YOU WON'T LEAVE MY SIDE, AND THAT YOU WON'T DO ANYTHING AT ALL TO JANE, WE'LL HELP YOU GET BACK TO WHERE YOU'RE STAYING." You lean in, eyes narrowing to scrutinize his own. "BUT IF YOU BETRAY THE FAITH I'VE PUT IN YOU, SO HELP ME, I'M GOING TO NEVER FORGIVE YOU, AND I WON'T STOP KANAYA FROM GETTING HER REVENGE. DO YOU UNDERSTAND PERFECTLY FINE?" You can tell from the movement of his eyes that he's nodding in agreement. 

"GOOD," you say. "NOW GET YOUR CLOWN ASS OUT OF THE STORAGE VESSEL, YOU'RE NOT A GOGDAMN WRIGGLER." Reaching in for his shoulders, you carefully begin the process of hoisting him out. He must have been a few nights away from a Recuperacoon now, because he's sluggish in his movements and you can feel the faintest shaking in his body.

You've almost prized Gamzee out of his little hiding spot...

**== > Karkat: Be Jane**

You are Jane Crocker and you are terrified.

Each and every one of the trolls and a few of your fellow humans here have told you their own stories about this particular troll. Dave Strider told you that he was a juggalo who despised the Insane Clown Posse but still dropped most ill rhymes. Or whatever that's supposed to mean. Terezi told you that he was born into the highest of all highblood land troll castes, and as such, was naturally predisposed to be a murderous fuck. Kanaya told you that for the things he had done, she was never going to forgive him in the foreseeable future, and that she felt a particular hatred for him. 

Karkat wouldn't say a thing about him, which you found odd at the time, because as his moirail - Which UU once mentioned to you as being about as close or closer than the best of friends - You would think he'd be eager to defend the troll. Right now, as his emergence is lead by one long, lean arm, followed by a leg garbed in indigo shoes and polka-dotted black and gray pants, you can tell that this troll is not someone you'd particularly want to have run into by yourself. Would you have survived if you'd gone to open that cupboard without Karkat here to calm him down? You don't really want to mull over such possibilities.

Taking in his ratty t-shirt, with its indigo Capricorn sign on the chest and its worn-out holes in the shoulders, your eyes are immediately drawn to his face. He has a series of parallel scars going diagonally and downward across his face, poorly-healed and with hints of indigo below. His hair is simply afright, and his clownish facepaint is smudged beyond recognition. Meanwhile, his eyes are focused on Karkat, who's carefully guiding him out by the hands. 

It would almost be a comical sight, with how Gamzee stands a good deal taller, except that Karkat is visibly trying to keep Gamzee away from you, and Gamzee seems to be quite definitively out-of-sorts. The fact is not lost on you that this resemblance to a handler keeping a bear in check is unsettingly appropriate: if you startle Gamzee and Karkat can't stop him...

As Karkat manages to sit Gamzee down in the chair, you get an idea. Making sure you're in his sight the entire time, you slowly place some of the still-hot food onto a plate. Some chicken, some mashed potatoes, and some fried apples. Setting it down on the table, you pick up a crescent roll and walk closer.

Despite Karkat's harsh whispers, you gently offer the crescent roll to Gamzee. He raises one huge, bony hand, and takes it from you. "THANK YOU, miss human jane. you're pretty MOTHERFUCKING COOL. honk." He begins to eat slowly, visibly exhausted.

Backing away, you merely nod and whisper in confirmation.

Maybe Gamzee isn't so bad.


	5. Karkat: Descend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the part where I artfully dodge a plot discrepancy, it's actually quite graceful.

**== > Be Karkat.**

You are Karkat and you are flipping your shit.

Your shit has done an epic 1080-degree turn flipout and is so far gone you're not even going to bother looking after it over the event horizon of the black hole that is your doom. If there is any way this situation could get worse, you don't want to even picture it. Your idiot clown moirail is sitting at the table, impassively eating a heaping plate of food. You wish you could bring yourself to believe it's all going to be okay, but you really know it's not going to be.

At last, Gamzee finishes his food. "ALRIGHT DUMBASS WE HAVE TO GO. IT'S ONLY A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE SOMEONE ELSE SHOWS UP AND YOU CANNOT BE SEEN IN HERE." A quiet little _honk_ is your only response. "GET UP. AND MOVE YOUR FEET. OUT OF THE DOOR. NOW." He finally slouches to his feet, and begins walking slowly. You grab his hand to make sure he doesn't get lost again, and sigh. "GOOD GOD, YOU'RE A MESS, GAMZEE. ONCE WE FIND AN ABLUTION TRAP DOWN THERE, YOU'RE TAKING A BATH." You turn to look at Jane. Thankfully, she's still following after the two of you. You really don't think you can do this alone.

"IF I KEEP CLOSE," you say in a lower tone, "DO YOU THINK YOU'D FEEL COMFORTABLE WITH HELPING ME TO CLEAN HIS CLAWS? THE DUMBFUCK IS GOING TO GET AN INFECTION LIKE THIS." She nods in confirmation. It seems that she's a little too out-of-sorts to speak up.

Now, to just avoid anyone.

**== > Karkat: Descend.**

Thankfully, no one else is around - At least, not that you can see. The hardest part is coming up next. You have to pass by Terezi's room. You can actually feel the skin on the back of your neck prickling as you keep Gamzee close with both arms. Slowly, carefully, the three of you make your way past the closed door. Once you're all past, you drag Gamzee on his sluggish feet until he picks up into a jog. 

That's more than enough, with how much longer his legs are, and the three of you are soon at the entrance of a vertical structure-navigation chute. Shoving Gamzee inside and stepping aside for Jane to make her way inside, you hit the very lowermost button on the console. A heavy sigh is blown out, and you slump against the side wall. You wipe the beaded sweat off of your brow, and look over at Gamzee. He's gazing at you with a decidedly more lucid look in his eyes. About time the twit felt like joining the party just as you're all in the home stretch.

"UM. best friend," he begins, "YOU DON'T, uh, have to, MOTHERFUCKING DO ALL THIS for me. i'll be JUST FINE ONCE I GET TO my respiteblock down here. i'd feel MOTHERFUCKING AWFUL to get you two in trouble, HONK." The frown on his face is too much to take. You walk over and gently pap him on the cheek. He reaches his long, wiry arms out, and hugs you against him. With a world-weary sigh, you return the gesture. You manage to stretch one arm around to reach his back, and gently rub the worn fabric of his shirt.

"DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT," you say quietly. "YOU'RE MY FUCKING MOIRAIL. IF I EVER NEEDED YOU TO KEEP ME FROM HURTING MYSELF, OR TO KEEP ME FROM DOING SOMETHING STUPID, I KNOW YOU'D DO ALL YOU COULD TO HELP." He plops his cheek down on top of your head, right between your horns. "OKAY, YOU CAN GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME NOW." He gives what sounds like a cross between a snort and a honk and moves away.

All this time, Jane has been standing off to the side, looking like she has no honest idea what to do in this situation. For once, Gamzee makes himself useful, and breaks the awkward silence. "um. miss JANE HUMAN," he says. She jumps at the sudden shout of her name and looks over. "you like to, like, MOTHERFUCKING BAKE AND SHIT, right?" Her head seems about to pop off from how fast she's nodding. "i didn't get to MOTHERFUCKING ASK YOU ABOUT IT BEFORE," what the actual fuck. Before? He's met her _BEFORE!!?_ To your shock, amazement, sickened stomach, and all sorts of other adjectives, a look of realization dons on Jane's face. Gamzee keeps talking.

"what do you motherfucking ACTUALLY LIKE TO BAKE?" Jane seems about to refer to what Gamzee just mentioned, but on a hunch, you hold a shooshing finger to your lips and shake your head vehemently. Gamzee doesn't seem to notice you. With a nod to Gamzee, actually to you, she begins discussing cake and other confectionaries.

As Gamzee begins talking about his pies, you collapse against the wall and just sit there.

What the taintchafing fuck has Gamzee been doing while he was gone?

You attempt a **Facepalm 2x Combo** , but don't have the vitality.

You settle for discontented grumbling.


End file.
